Our Town

What happens in federal Washington, like its response to the financial crisis, may not often be pretty or noble. In this election year, for example, Congress was once again unable to agree on individual appropriation bills for government departments, but its members did find ways to spend taxpayers' money on politically advantageous pet projects through earmarks hidden in legislation. And the Bush administration, like the Clinton crowd before it, has been changing regulations and administrative procedures in its dying days to perpetuate its own ideological approach to governing.

These kinds of shortcomings are certainly worth debating factually and forthrightly. But little is likely to be fixed or reformed by empty rhetoric that only bashes Washington.

The other secret about our town, obscured by its distortion in political campaigns, is that the real Washington is a good place in which to live, despite the snarled traffic and a jumble of political jurisdictions. When I arrived here as a summer intern reporter in 1964, the city was something of a cultural backwater with a racially divided population, deteriorating neighborhoods and awkwardly growing suburbs. Then the riots of 1968 after the assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. left the region deeply troubled.

But that proved to be a turning point. Local citizens, governments and business communities committed themselves to making improvements in transportation, education, social conditions and urban development. With the ensuing population growth and economic diversification, the Washington area blossomed into a world-class city, rich in theater, music, the visual arts, museums and even cuisine. It now has one of the country's best-educated populations and largest university and think-tank communities. Its economy has grown well beyond the federal government into technology, research, services and real estate. It has become one of the nation's most diverse metropolitan areas, enriched by international organizations, embassies and sizable immigrant populations from countries around the globe.

Although worrying gaps persist in income, education and housing, as in most big cities, many Washington-area neighborhoods have become more vibrant, and old urban centers, from the District to Silver Spring to Clarendon, are on the upswing. Streets and neighborhoods that were deserted and dangerous after dark when I came here are now meccas of nightlife. Tourists crowd the city in all seasons, and Washington is still the place for Americans to come, individually or in demonstrations of thousands, to speak, assemble and petition the government for causes great and small.

As much as it has changed, Washington remains a pleasantly unique city, with its low skyline, monumental architecture, preserved history and green open spaces. Despite the serious dedication to work of so many of its residents, their lifestyle is generally unpretentious.

"Though few Washingtonians would be caught dead admitting it," wrote the late Marjorie Williams, an astute and affectionate chronicler of life here, "this place has a grace that we love and need."

For all its partisanship and jockeying for power and influence, Washington's culture -- with roots in the New Deal, World War II, Lyndon Johnson's Great Society and the Reagan Revolution -- is receptive to new ideas and new people. It is steadily refreshed by idealistic young professionals who come here to work and learn for low wages in the backrooms of power. And it readily assimilates waves of older hands who arrive with each new administration and member of Congress, and then stay in the public arena here.

"The truth is that many newcomers stay forever, secretly at home in the city everyone loves to hate," Williams has written. "As each administration departs, it leaves behind a layer of flotsam on the shore -- lobbyists, lawyers, public relations people -- all too smitten or too connected to ever move away. The city happily absorbs its quadrennial infusions of new blood. But Washington always does more to change its newcomers than the newcomers do to change it."

It changed me by increasing both my skepticism about power and its abuses and my appreciation of the many, many people here who sincerely try to use their access to power for the public good, regardless of ideology or personal ambition. I've found this ambiguity to be the key to understanding my adopted home town. And I've sought to portray it in my soon-to-be-published novel about Washington, "The Rules of the Game." Its characters -- journalists, politicians, lobbyists and government contractors caught up in a high-stakes mystery -- struggle with the rules for politics, journalism and relationships here and the consequences they face when they cross the line.

The American people's love-hate fascination with Washington and its institutions of power have made it a rich setting for fiction in books, film and television. The best of that entertainment has been rooted in the reality that, like it or not, the capital plays a vital role in the future of the country. After these past turbulent weeks, that role seems more important than ever.

Leonard Downie Jr. was executive editor of The Washington Post for 17 years. He is now a vice president at large of The Washington Post Co.